Work Text:
December at the Northland Bank is slow.
Thus, Ajax finds himself running mindless errands for others to pass the time and familiarize himself with the building. It’s only been a month since he started his new job as a financial advisor for the bank, but the team has been incredibly welcoming despite his inexperience with the role.
Mostly.
There is one person in his department who seems unswayed by Ajax’s charm and kindness, a senior financial analyst named Scaramouche that Ajax may or may not daydream about when he has nothing else to do. The older man is an enigma; he’s always buried in work, refusing to waste time with others outside of his allotted breaks and mealtimes, and he absolutely loathes the young redhead.
Naturally, this makes Ajax only want to pester him more, to see if he can get that incredibly apathetic mask to crack.
“Scaraaaa,” Ajax sings one evening, resting his forearms on the back of the shorter man’s desk chair as he leans over his shoulder to snoop on his computer. Of course, the Inazuman is actually working, so the spreadsheet full of this quarter’s sales and other figures on the screen makes the redhead pout. “Jeez, do you ever slack off?” He glances at the time at the corner of the screen. “It’s four-forty-five already.”
“The workday ends at five, dumbass,” Scaramouche mutters, pausing his typing to smack Ajax square on the forehead with the palm of his hand. At the startled noise he makes, the older man adds, “Go do something else. Far away from me.”
“I came to invite you to happy hour,” the redhead chirps, undeterred by his senior’s lack of enthusiasm as he soothes his forehead with a smile. Scaramouche’s fingers fly over the keyboard, now typing out an email. “Almost the whole department is going. Something about team bonding before we all go our separate ways for the holidays.”
“Don’t we have secret Santa coming up?”
Ajax grins. The office drew names for the annual gift exchange the week prior, and the fates decided that Ajax would be in charge of his beloved senior’s present this year. His eyes wander across the walls of his large cubicle, spotting several pictures of a calico cat and Scaramouche with people he assumes are friends from his homeland. There are several post cards from Inazuma pinned to the bulletin board, as well as a small flyer to a place called Komore Teahouse. “Well, yes, but that’s during work hours. It doesn’t count.”
“Like I would want to waste a perfectly good Friday night drinking with people I see eight hours a day, five days a week,” Scaramouche retorts, scoffing as he shakes his head. He keeps typing and Ajax pouts again. “Pass.”
“Aw, come on,” Ajax whines, grabbing the back of his chair and shaking it gently. It creaks quietly with the movement. “You never hang out with us.”
“Because I don’t want to.” Tap, tap, tap.
“Please?” Tap, tap, tap.
Tap, tap, tap. Scaramouche looks over his shoulder at the redhead, expression completely blank. His fingers continue tapping on the keyboard, and Ajax is more than mildly impressed as the body of text on the screen grows. “No.”
“But—”
“Proofread this email,” the older man interrupts, turning to face the screen again, typing for a few more seconds before he pulls his hands from the keyboard. “Make yourself useful if you insist on bothering me.”
“Sure!” Ajax grins, leaning down to scan the contents, entirely pleased that Scaramouche wants his help. His stomach flutters at their closeness and the faint smell of Scaramouche’s vanilla and cardamom cologne, and he forces himself to read the words on the screen.
FROM: [email protected]
BCC: [email protected], [email protected]
SUBJECT: Staff Interruptions
Ekaterina,
Since he was employed on November 6th, I have been harassed nonstop by a junior employee in my department: Ajax Tartaglia. Despite my numerous attempts to shut down this unwanted behavior, he continues to pester me during business hours and prevents me from completing time-sensitive work. Frankly, it is concerning that he has so much time on his hands; such dedication to disorder makes me wonder about his workload as well as the quality of his work. Were he not bothering me at all hours of the day, I imagine he would be far more productive, and I would no longer have to constantly look over my shoulder in fear that he is standing right behind me.
I would appreciate if this matter got handled swiftly, otherwise I will have to involve upper management. I know the Tsaritsa will not appreciate having her time wasted with such petty squabbles that the human resources department is perfectly capable of resolving.
I look forward to our future collaboration.
Best,
Scaramouche, Senior Financial Analyst
Ajax feels his entire face flush with warmth as he stands up straight, clearing his throat as Scaramouche watches him over his shoulder, a hint of a smirk on his lips. “That, uh, looks fine to me. I’ll... see you later.”
“Hm.”
—
On Tuesday, the weather takes a turn for the worst, so everyone is sent home to work remotely. Ajax is curled up under the duvet and faux fur blanket on his bed, chewing on a pen as he scans the messages in the department group chat on his laptop.
[2:21 p.m.] Rosalyne: Can anyone send the Mondstadt numbers from last month
[2:22 p.m.] Zandik: Misplaced your little side project? How shocking
[2:25 p.m.] Vlad: Which ones
[2:28 p.m.] Vlad: ?
[2:30 p.m.] Rosalyne: **** you zan****
[2:31 p.m.] Rosalyne: I need a list of all the Goth Grand Hotel transactions from November
[2:31 p.m.] Pantalone: Are you referring to this?
[2:31 p.m.] Rosalyne: Yes! Thank you Mr. Department Head. You’re always so reliable xxxx
[2:32 p.m.] Scaramouche: take your gross **** elsewhere
[2:32 p.m.] Pantalone: You’re welcome Miss Ros… Feel free to reach out if you have any further questions.
[2:33 p.m.] Scaramouche: SHUT THE **** UP
Ajax: Hey @Scaramouche, did you ever find those forms you were looking for? [2:33 p.m.]
Ajax: @Scaramouche did you get my email about the quarterly reports I filed last Wednesday??? [2:47 p.m.]
Ajax: @Scaramouche you know that I can see that you’re online right????? [3:02 p.m.]
Ajax: Bro [4:56 p.m.]
[4:57 p.m.] Pantalone: @Ajax Please refrain from spamming the group chat.
[Liked by Zandik, Rosalyne, and Scaramouche.]
[Disliked by Ajax.]
—
“I hate this,” Scaramouche complains on Thursday, tugging at the string on the bag of tea steeping in his mug. “There’s nothing decent to drink here.”
“So, bring your own then,” Signora says, shrugging as she bites into an apple. Ajax is at the counter, pouring himself a cup of coffee from the pot he just brewed.
The man wrinkles his nose, scowling at Ajax as he slips into the seat beside him with a steaming cup of coffee and a grin. “If the company can afford to send all of their employees on a yearly retreat and give us bonuses, they can afford better tea for the break room.”
“You should switch over to coffee anyway! Who actually likes drinking leaf water?” Ajax says.
Scaramouche sneers. “Who likes drinking bean water?”
Signora barks a laugh, a chunk of the apple’s skin stuck between her front teeth. Ajax silently vows to tell her if it doesn’t fix itself on its own. “Gross. Don’t call coffee ‘bean water.’”
“That’s what it is.”
“It’s delicious!” Ajax protests, accidentally hitting the mug with his hand, the motion teetering the mug as coffee spills over the edge and splashes onto the table. Scaramouche curls his lip in disgust and Ajax laughs sheepishly. “Hah… sorry, everyone.”
His senior sighs as he scrapes his chair back noisily and stands, grabbing his mug before the coffee can reach it. “Idiot.”
—
On Tuesday night, Ajax and Scaramouche take the elevator together.
The ride to ground level typically takes no more than a minute, but as they’re approaching the sixth floor, the elevator stalls and comes to a shuddering halt.
Both men stumble at the suddenness of it, and Scaramouche curses. “What the fuck?”
The fire bell starts ringing, and the two of them groan in unison. Scaramouche curses again as he presses the ‘call’ button on the panel harshly.
A faint voice crackles through the speakers after a few moments. “Looks like it’s stuck.”
Scaramouche glares up at the camera in the corner. “No shit.”
“…Firefighters will be here in about twenty or thirty minutes.”
The older man groans loudly and Ajax laughs. “Dude, relax.”
“Excuse me for not wanting to be trapped in a steel box with you for half an hour,” Scaramouche sneers.
Ajax pouts, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans against the back wall. “There are worse things.”
“You’re right,” the analyst replies. “It could be longer.”
“Hey!”
The Inazuman sighs as he sags against the wall beside the panel of buttons and pulls his phone from his suit pocket. He taps on it for a few seconds before he curses and sighs again, his hand falling to his side. “No reception. Of course.”
“Guess that means you’ll have to talk to me,” Ajax says cheerily, grinning at the other man as he shoots the redhead a withering glare. “Come on, do you really hate me so much that the thought of being alone for twenty minutes is so unbearable?”
Scaramouche stares at him with a blank expression, and the undivided attention makes the redhead’s palms grow sticky with sweat. “Yes.”
—
The next Friday, Ajax suits up.
The Santa costume he rented is several sizes too large, hanging off his body in an unflattering way that practically swallows him whole, but he still grins to himself when he sees the completed look in the mirror. The coat and pants are garish and itchy polyester, the beard unruly and plastic. The hat droops over his brows and the belt holding the ensemble together looks cartoonishly small for how large the suit itself is.
Once satisfied with his Santa-ness, he sneaks over to his cubicle to drop his clothes off before heading to Pantalone’s office to gather up all the secret Santa gifts in the gift sack that came with the costume.
The Christmas party is well underway when Ajax finally bounds across the office, bag of presents slung over his shoulder. People turn to watch him as he heads towards the tree, loudly proclaiming in a deep ‘Santa’ voice that he may or may not have practiced the night before, “Ho, ho, ho! A delivery from the North Pole!”
He catches a glimpse of Scaramouche by Signora, mouth open and eyebrows furrowed as he assesses the redhead’s ill-fitting suit. Ajax throws a wink and a grin his way, and the older man rolls his eyes as the gift sack is set on the ground. He straightens, turning towards Pantalone, who watches him with thinly veiled amusement.
“Merry Christmas! Are you the leader of this fine group of people?”
Pantalone smirks and waves his plastic cup through the air. “Yes. As you can see, we are in the middle of our Christmas party, Santa.”
“Perfect timing, then!” Ajax cheers, looking around the room. All twenty people in the department are watching him with a mixture of amusement and exasperation as he laughs jovially. “I believe I have some presents to give out!”
“Oh, goody,” he hears Scaramouche mutter.
Ajax grins under the scratchy beard and opens the sack to begin distributing the secret Santa gifts. The first five are to others he doesn’t usually speak to, and he mentally cheers when he sees his gift, pulling it out next. He makes a show of reading the tag, rubbing his beard thoughtfully. “Hmm, it says here that this gift is for ‘the most charming senior financial analyst.’ I wonder who that could be!”
Snickers echo throughout the room when he bounds over to Scaramouche, who glares at him; it’s softened by the slight flush in his cheeks as he holds the present out between them.
“I believe that would be you,” Ajax teases, winking as Scaramouche rolls his eyes and shares a look with a smirking Signora before snatching the present from his hands and huffing.
Ajax’s heart thumps in his chest in excitement as he hands out the rest of the presents. He keeps sneaking glances at Scaramouche as he chats with the blonde woman beside him, giddy when he sees him examining the small box in his hands with interest more than once.
When the sack is empty, Ajax proclaims, “Ho, ho, ho! Merry Christmas!”
A chorus of exasperated ‘merry Christmases’ are thrown his way, and he bows with a flourish in front of Pantalone, who steps up beside him. “Alright, everyone. We’ll open one at a time; we each get one guess, then the real secret Santa can reveal themselves.”
The festivities start ten people before Scaramouche, and Ajax is practically vibrating in place as each present is opened, each guess is made, and each secret Santa is revealed.
The person before Scaramouche graciously thanks their secret Santa, and everyone’s focus shifts to the analyst as he sighs and sets his cup on the desk behind him. Ajax bites down his grin though no one can see it behind his plastic beard, and watches with a pounding heart as Scaramouche gingerly unwraps the box, keeping the wrapping paper in one piece. Heh, cute.
The first thing he pulls out is a black tea infuser shaped like a cat. Scaramouche scoffs as giggles ring out between the people close enough to see.
“A tea infuser,” Scaramouche says loud enough for people across the room to hear. He places it down on the desk and reaches into the box again, pulling out the bag of loose leaf tea Ajax picked out. “And some...” Scaramouche pauses, eyes flitting across the label, widening as his cheeks redden slightly. “Tea.”
“Ho, ho!” Ajax says jovially. “And who do you think gave you this gift?”
The older man glances around the circle, then at the tea in his hand. “Um... Arlecchino? We have tea together sometimes.”
“Not me,” the woman replies.
Ajax grins and points at Scaramouche flamboyantly. “Ho, ho! It was the real Santa! Me!”
Scaramouche’s jaw drops and the redhead wants to do a backflip when his cheeks flush even darker. “...Thank you.”
The redhead’s cheeks hurt from how widely he’s smiling. “You’re welcome.”
After the gift exchange is over and the party is back in full swing, Ajax escapes to the break room to take a breather. He sighs as he yanks the beard off his face and lets it hang around his neck, itching at his jaw where the plastic rubbed up against it uncomfortably. Faintly, he can hear the off-pitch singing of Christmas karaoke beginning and he smiles to himself.
Ajax turns when he hears someone behind him, grinning when he sees Scaramouche leaning against the door jamb. The older man’s cheeks are flushed cutely as he scowls at the redhead, bringing his plastic cup to his lips.
“Hey! Did you need a break from everyone?”
“Hm. Too noisy.”
Ajax makes his way towards his senior, lips turned up amicably as he comes to a stop in front of him. While the Inazuman did not participate in the ugly sweater contest like most of the other workers, he wears a holiday tie with a scene depicting Santa and his reindeer flying over a snow-covered town. Cute.
Ajax leans down slightly, sneakily catching a whiff of Scaramouche’s cologne. Vanilla and cardamom. Very festive. “Did you like your present?”
Scaramouche purses his lips, downing the rest of his drink and tossing it in the trash can beside the door before he says, “I suppose you did an alright job.”
Ajax pumps his fist through the air in victory, laughing. “Yes! I knew you would. The old lady at the tea shop told me it was a very famous blend that isn’t usually available on the continent. Said it was the only time she ordered it this year and I was lucky to find it.”
Scaramouche hums, his eyes flitting across Ajax’s face. “That’s a sales tactic, dumbass.”
“I thought the cat infuser was cute,” Ajax continues, leaning against the opposite side of the doorway and crossing his arms over his chest. “Reminded me of you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“That you’re very cat-like?” Ajax offers, grinning at the glare he receives. “See?”
“I hate you.”
“You’re not denying it,” the redhead teases, leaning down so they’re at eye level. “It’s okay, though. You get away with it because you’re cute. Like a cat.”
“You make a terrible Santa, by the way,” Scaramouche tells him, changing the subject. “You couldn’t find a better costume?”
“Turns out most guys that play Santa are a bit on the heavy side.” Ajax sighs dramatically as he straightens, turning his face to the ceiling in woe. “And here I thought I finally found my calling.”
“Well, think again.”
Ajax grins, his eyes zeroing in at the trim at the top of the door frame where a mistletoe is taped, before he glances back down at Scaramouche, who watches him with a strange expression. “You know, there’s a mistletoe right above us.”
Scaramouche glances up, then back down at Ajax’s face. “So?”
“Some might say that a kiss is warranted,” the redhead replies, sniffing. “After all, I worked so hard this year.”
“Yeah, at being a pain in my ass,” the other man deadpans, shaking his head.
Ajax sags against the trim, feeling sheepish as Scaramouche’s violet eyes assess him. “Hah, well…”
“You know, you’re really annoying.”
“Ou—”
“You’re always pissing me off,” Scaramouche interrupts, “and getting in my way. Getting trapped in elevators with me. It’s infuriating.”
“Hey, I had nothing to do with that!”
“And the worst thing about you?” Scaramouche scoffs and eyes the redhead cautiously. “You somehow managed to buy my favorite tea for this stupid gift exchange. One that I haven’t had since I left Inazuma two years ago,” Scaramouche adds, his eyes flicking down to Ajax’s mouth. His voice lowers. “How did you do that?”
The redhead swallows, his heart pounding. He’s not used to having his senior’s undivided attention, especially at such close proximity, and he feels a bead of sweat run down his neck. The polyester is stifling. “I, um, overheard you one day. Talking to Signora. You said that the only good tea was back home, that no place here could get the right type of bitterness that you like.” Ajax chuckles nervously, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I went to Nod-Krai a few weeks ago since none of the places here sell Inazuman tea... The owner of the shop did most of the work, though.”
Scaramouche doesn’t say anything, and the redhead thinks his heart actually stops beating when the collar of his ill-fitting Santa suit is grabbed, and he is pulled down until his nose is almost touching Scaramouche’s. The older man mutters, “You still piss me off,” before closing the distance between them and kissing Ajax.
For all his posturing and harsh words, the kiss is far softer than Ajax is expecting—not that he was actually expecting a kiss from him, but if he was, ‘gentle’ would not be his first assumption. Scaramouche’s lips are warm and taste like the spiced eggnog that Zandik dumped a flask of firewater into, and Ajax makes a noise in the back of his throat as he weaves a hand through the other man’s hair, pulling him closer by the back of his head as he angles his head to deepen the kiss. He pushes his luck, swiping his tongue along Scaramouche’s bottom lip, and blood rushes to his head when the motion is reciprocated, and suddenly there is a slick tongue in his mouth, and the older man makes a noise that sends warmth flooding through Ajax’s body.
Ajax allows himself to be pressed up against the door jamb as the kiss grows in intensity, his heart pounding as Scaramouche’s hands slip under the too-big jacket and his t-shirt; he lets out a stuttering gasp as Scaramouche’s cold hands slide up his stomach before heading outwards to settle on his waist. The slick glide of their tongues sends Ajax’s few coherent thoughts towards something far more indecent, and distantly he wonders if he’s ever been properly kissed in his life because they have never felt like this. Hungry and breathless. All-consuming. He makes an embarrassing noise that he will later deny when his bottom lip is taken between teeth in a teasing bite, and he feels weak in the knees when the older man laughs breathlessly against his mouth before dizzying him some more. Were Ajax keener, he would have opened his eyes to admire the quick grin, but every one of his senses is useless against his senior’s persistent mouth and chilly fingers.
Before he can process that they’ve stopped, the other man pulls out of Ajax’s hold, breathing a little heavily as he looks up at the stunned redhead for a moment—thankfully, Ajax has the wherewithal to open his eyes and nearly topples over when he sees how blown Scaramouche’s pupils are—then leaves without a word. A couple seconds pass before Signora stumbles up to him, complaining about the food, but Ajax barely listens. Instead, he’s dazed, gawking at Scaramouche’s retreating figure as he turns the corner down the hall, flashing a mischievous smile over his shoulder before disappearing.
“—and I just can’t believe the nerve—”
Ajax’s heart is still thundering in his chest, and his lips taste like egg nog when he wets them, desperate to chase after the taste of Scaramouche on his tongue. He wants more. So much more. His face and neck grow hot as he recalls how Scaramouche handled him. How he just slipped his hands underneath his shirt as he licked into his m—
Fingers snap in front of his face, and he is brought back to reality by Signora. “Oi, kid. Are you listening?”
“Hah, sorry,” Ajax laughs hoarsely as he yanks the beard back over his face to hide the undeniable redness in his cheeks, throwing on his best ‘Santa’ voice. “How can I help make your Christmas wish come true, young lady?”
The blonde wrinkles her nose and waves a hand through the air. “Just order something that’s not fried or tooth-rotting.”
Ajax’s mind wanders to Scaramouche, his soft lips and warm tongue. His sly little smile as he rounded the corner. An invitation, he realizes belatedly. He mentally curses the older man for thoroughly rendering him even stupider than he usually is. Ajax pushes past the woman, throwing a “Yeah, sure,” over his shoulder in his normal voice as he follows the path Scaramouche took, his heart thumping hard in his chest. He turns the corner and finds himself at the door to the stairwell, far from the party on the other side of the office. He pushes the door open and finds Scaramouche leaning against the wall a few feet away, casually examining his nails like he didn’t just knock Ajax’s world off its axis and send him careening through the cosmos.
Violet eyes flick upwards, and Scaramouche raises a brow at him as his hand falls to his side. “Took you long enough.”
Ajax grins, laughing breathlessly as he saunters up to the older man. “You surprised me.”
“Hm.” He gestures to the beard. “Take that shit off if you’re going to kiss me again. It’s itchy.”
Ajax yanks it off and tosses it over his shoulder without hesitation, then the hat, and Scaramouche snorts, his lips quirking up at the corners. “Anything else, senior?”
Scaramouche pulls something from his pocket and holds it up between them, and Ajax’s laugh is loud and joyful when he realizes it’s a tiny mistletoe. “I happened to find this laying around.”
“If I didn’t know any better, I would think you planned this,” Ajax teases, stepping closer to the other man, looping his fingers through the belt loops of his slacks and pressing their bodies together.
“Hah. You wish.”
He’s sure Scaramouche can hear how loudly his heart is pounding. “Well, as the office Santa, I’m pretty sure it would be blasphemous for me to not honor the holiday’s traditions.”
“Right.” Ajax lets out a shaking breath as Scaramouche loops his arms around his neck and pulls him down to his level, scraping his nails along the exposed skin. Goosebumps break out along the redhead’s arms as he shivers, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as Scaramouche does the same. “Better get to it then.”
Ajax brushes their noses together before asking, “Is that an order?”
Scaramouche hums, and his breath is warm against the redhead’s lips. He already feels a little lightheaded. “What, are you gonna report me to HR if it is?”
Ajax grins. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Then kiss me before I change my mind.”